Unnatural
by rubix22
Summary: One-shot. Four unnamed individuals encounter a 'God'.


A vehicle was steadily speeding along the highway.

The rattle of the car's metal frame vibrated throughout as the four people inside had a conversation.

"A complete waste of time...? A hopeless cause...? Just ramblings of some crazy person...? Rather... don't you think we've actually stumbled... onto a goldmine...!-?"

This voice came from a person sitting in the back. He was a young gentleman who was wearing a business suit; however, rather than looking professional, he seemed overtly messy as the summer heat had wore down his appearance with stink and sweat. Nonetheless he seemed ecstatic.

"...!"

"No! Wait! Hold on!"

There was a glint in his eye.

"Do you think...! Could it be...! That this is...!"

The man in the suit dramatically turned to face his reflection in the car window.

"_Fate_?"

After whispering that one word, his face shook as if it could hardly contain itself any longer.

"Indeed! It is the _Gods_ that are looking kindly upon us! _Kya-Ha-Haha_! _Aha ha ha~_!"

As the man in the suit laughed, he ran his hand through his sweat-drenched hair and, in the process, made his appearance even more frazzled.

"Let us make haste to the nearest shrine so that we can pay our respects!"

"Could you shut up... I'm dying here..."

The older gentleman beside him sighed. This person was dressed more appropriately for the weather, wearing lighter clothes and baseball cap. He began pulling on his collar to fan himself.

"Honestly, getting fired up like that... The last thing we need in this van is more heat."

The woman in the passenger seat raised her voice.

"Oh, should I open a window for yo-?"

"_Rejected._"

He said flatly.

"The last time you did that, the door came flying off."

"But we got that fixed, didn't we?"

The woman gave him a smile through the rear-view mirror.

"..."

And in response, he shivered slightly.

The woman was dressed plainly, as was the driver who somewhat matched her. While it doesn't particularly matter, it could be feasibly guessed that the two in front might have been either husband and wife or brother and sister.

"In any case... on to more important matters..."

The man in the baseball cap quickly changed the subject. He shot a dirty look to the person sitting beside him.

"Why the hell are you wearing a suit...? You're making me hot just looking at you."

"Well, I look good in it, don't you think?"

He replied smugly.

"You're sweating like a pig."

"So. That just means I'm well hydrated."

"You know what? You're starting to piss me off here. At our next stop, you're changing your clothes. I don't care to what, but I don't want to see you in a fucking suit."

"...Huh?-! Wha?-! I can't do that! Once the suit's gone, I'll lose everything that makes me 'me'! This suit's a part of my life, blood, and name! You can't seriously be asking me to get rid of a piece of 'myself', are you?"

"I actually think everyone here would like it if you'd stop being yourself."

The man in the baseball cap shot back.

"Hold on, hold on, hold on! I don't think you understand what I'm saying! Let's imagine for the moment that you were in my position! What if I forced that baseball cap off of you, huh?"

"I wouldn't care, because it's a fucking cap."

"What! Then! Everyone will see your bald spot! Are you really okay with that?"

"Who the fuck has a bald spot?"

The man in baseball cap's voice was getting angrier.

"Isn't that why you're wearing that cap? Or maybe it's because you dyed your hair and it came out a funky color."

"Nothing's wrong with my fucking hair."

He answered.

The man in the suit leered at him.

"Hmm? Then take it off."

"..."

He hesitated.

"...Look, I don't have anything to prove. And you asking me is-"

The man in the suit made a grab.

"It came off!"

"God! Fuck!"

The man without the cap grabbed his cap back and placed it over his head.

"It's thinning."

"It's not thinning, it's a Goddamn normal haircut...!"

The woman spoke up.

"Oi, do you two really have to have this conversation now?"

They both turned towards her.

"Yes."

"Ah, I see. You know, I was just thinking of turning on the A/C. I wonder if it still works."

…

…

…

The vehicle suddenly became very silent.

"Well, I suppose I could do it later then~"

The two in the back were thinking along similar lines.

_Survival..._

The woman turned to look out the window.

"But really... to think that we'd actually find something out here..."

She sighed.

"No, even if we did find something... you could hardly call this prime time news. In the end, this is just a ghost story, isn't it?"

Leaning her hand against her temple, she let out another breath.

…

"...well, that's just how the media works, right?"

The man in the baseball cap leaned back in his seat and continued.

"It isn't possible for one television station to cover all the news in the world. And it's the higher-ups that determine what is and what isn't worthy of coverage. It's the selective process of determining what's important while maximizing viewership.

No one in Japan cares about the countless of lives lost in Africa, but on the other hand, a ghost story in a small suburban town is definitely relevant to the audience. For this reason, we have celebrities getting occasional face time. None of it actually matters, but it's these types of stories that really resonate with the people. If you take this away, it'll create a total disconnection."

The woman frowned.

"I wonder when it was when news stations decided to entertain instead of tell the news..."

"I believe it was around the time television was created."

The man in the suit replied.

"But really... being so far in this industry and worrying about such things...! I've long thrown away my pride as a reporter and accepted my role as an entertainer...!"

Somehow, the man in the suit was shining.

"Oh, good for you."

The woman said blankly.

"Well, I suppose if you took it from that perspective...

You said 'goldmine', right? Do you really think this story will turn heads...? I won't deny that the story isn't interesting, but... really, to make a supernatural documentary about it, I doubt that many people will want to watch..."

"People will want to see it."

The man in the suit stated.

"It's in the same vein as slowing down on the interstate to see the wreckage of a car crash. People will want to slow down and see this."

…

The woman seemed to be hesitant.

"I-Is that so..."

She snuck a glance at the camcorder in the man's hands.

"You probably know of a popular early morning segment, the one where the weather girl reads aloud the horoscope for the day, right?"

Asked the man in the suit. The woman was somewhat caught off guard by the odd turn in the conversation.

"...Ah? Yes. Of course I do."

"Say, don't you think it's odd? Even if you include the filtering mentioned before, this sort of segment holds no pretense of actually being factual, and is in complete contrast with the rest of the other 'news stories' held all day.

Not to mention that in this day and age, we have the technology to track hurricanes weeks ahead of time. Medical science has made it so that people's lifespans could very well reach over a hundred years in scope. We even have phones that let us access information on the Internet from anywhere in the world. In Japanese society, most people are well past the need of listening to horoscopes to determine how well their day will go."

And yet..."

He ran his fingers through his hair again.

"Surprisingly, that weather girl is really popular..."

Briefly, he paused to take a breath.

He continued.

"Think back when we were kids. The seven unexplained mysteries about so-and-so high school. The ghosts stories we've heard during the summer seasons. That girl at the culture festival who predicted the future with playing cards. There was a certain draw that the occult offered. And simply, all it was... was an alternative to what we were learing from our teachers.

Right now, people are constantly being bombarded with facts and information, so it's not so hard to imagine that when something unnatural is mentioned, it sticks out."

The man in the suit gripped onto the camcorder.

"_And this story really sticks out_."

The man made a small declaration..

"I've got a feeling here that this story is different compared to all other occult stories out there. This isn't a U.M.A. or the accounts of people talking about some dead prophet.

No...This story is living, breathing right in front of our eyes. A person that we can actually observe and study."

His eyes turned dark.

"_This... might get really popular._"

"If we actually go through with this, we'll be ruining his life."

The woman responded.

"Though, I'm sure this isn't the only life we've ruined so far with our work."

…

…

…

The man in the suit took a breath and swallowed.

"_I wonder... exactly whose life is being ruined here?_"

"..."

For some reason, a heavy atmosphere loomed over all the passengers in the vehicle.

…

The woman stopped to think. She turned her gaze out the window.

…

"_Still, a child who brings misfortune to others... no matter how I think about it, it's nothing but foolishness..."_

…

While not directly talking to anyone...

It almost sounded like she wanted to convince herself of this...

…

"And yet...

That's the most accurate description of what's happening in that town, isn't it...

'The God of Plague' is what they called him. I suppose I'll need to pay my respects towards him as well."

The man's voice went lower...

"..."

…

The conversation stopped there.

…

The vehicle rumbled as it kept pace with the rest of traffic.

And then...

…

…

"_...Should we... Really be doing this...?"_

"...?"

…

Everyone seemed to be off-put. This question didn't come from the two in the back nor the woman in the passenger seat. It came from the driver, who had been silent throughout the car ride.

The woman managed a shy smile.

"Are you feeling a bit guilty about this?"

She tried to make a laugh, but something seemed wrong.

…

"_No, it's not... It's not that..._"

…

There was a softening in sound, as if the entire world outside the van was being drowned out by water.

The driver's voice was quiet but somehow distinguishable.

…

"..."

"_I..."_

He stopped...

…

But started again.

…

"_While we were filming..."_

The driver seemed tense.

…

"_You guys may not have noticed it... but..."_

"_He didn't know we were there... No one did... It must have been some kind of coincidence..."_

…

He was biting his lip.

"_But... I swear..."_

"..."

…

He needed to stop again.

His thoughts were too disorganized...

…

"_He just... gave me this look and..._"

"_I don't know. I... just don't know._"

"..."

…

It was almost like he was making a confession, but the situation was nothing like that.

In the end, the driver wrote off his own words.

"_It's nothing..._"

…

…

Strangely, the heavy atmosphere condensed...

It was choking... stifling... suffocating...

The driver had his hands firmly planted on the steering wheel.

"..."

The woman was staring into her lap.

"..."

The man in the suit was feeling the metal edges of his camcorder.

A cold sweat was emanating.

"..."

…

…

…

"What's happening in that town... "

The man in the baseball cap somehow broke through.

"Isn't it just coincidence?

Now, I'm not defending this kid or anything. I don't feel sorry for him. If anything life has taught me, it's that feeling sorry for people doesn't get you anywhere.

But you just can't just deny the possibility that all these events are unrelated."

"..."

The man in the suit reacted.

"Coincidence."

"Yes."

"..."

The man in the suit was silent, but it seemed like he was thinking over his words.

The man in the baseball cap continued.

"That's right, isn't it? '_A child who bring misfortune to others'_ is no different than '_a child who just happens to be around during unfortunate events'_.

While it may be unlikely on the onset, it's entirely possible. In theory, flipping a coin one hundred times in a row should net you fifty heads and fifty tails, but in practice, it wouldn't be out of place for heads to come up one hundred times in a row in the scope of flipping a coin one million times. This might just be a similar case.

In the end, we really can't conclude anything about this ourselves, can we?"

"..."

The man in the suit gave him a glance.

"...Maybe."

He said.

"Yeah... Maybe that's it..."

And then...

The air became clear again.

"All right."

The man in the baseball cap smiled and reached out a hand.

"Say, let me look at that camera there."

…

The man in the suit obliged with his request.

And afterwards, he leaned back in his seat nonchalantly. The man in the baseball cap began sifting through the recorded data.

"..."

A small noises could be heard as he started...

…

He laughed.

"Hey, he really is looking at the camera."

He said.

"..."

Though, as he began watching the footage...

…

He went deathly silent.

…

His mouth slowly opened.

…

And his eyes widened at what the screen was showing him.

…

The man in the suit noticed this reaction but didn't know what to make of it.

…

"...Wha...What the fuck is th-"

At this time, the driver's hands dropped straight down.

* * *

><p>A faint orange glow stained the halls of an unknown elementary school. There, various crayon drawings of children were posted in a neat line across a wall. Within these messy pictures, it could somewhat be revealed what was on the minds of these students at the time of creation. One had a picture of a family standing near a house. One was of an animal, which was too indistinguishable to identify. Others had cars and airplanes drawn on them, but most were of things of nature like flowers and trees.<p>

However...

One drawing was different from the rest.

While other pictures were of things that children could easily identify with in the real world, this one was abstract.

From edge to edge, across the 8 by 11 sheet of paper, black crayon completely filled the portrait, leaving no space to reveal that the page was originally white. Taking a closer look at it revealed that it was done erratically; it was a complete scribble from a child. But even so, the drawing must have taken considerable effort and concentration to make. It was something that one person would have to start and continuously work on until the end of the class period. And maybe then, continue on even afterwards.

Probably, what was most remarkable about this picture was how well it faded into the background.

Under this odd picture surrounded by other drawings of people and flowers and animals...

A boy was sitting down on the floor.

His arms were placed over his knees, and his head was tilted forward.

He sat silently and still, waiting...

Waiting...

…

Until...

_Step. Step._

A door unlocked. And opened.

An older man appeared and quietly shut the door behind him as he came out. He turned to face the boy with a weary smile.

"Hey."

…

Outside the school, the two walked side-by-side.

This picture... undeniable this was a father and son walking home after a school day, but... there seemed to be something strange with the scene.

While they were close, somehow the feeling of 'distance' lingered in the air.

_Step. Step._

The older man was apprehensive.

The boy... unexpressive.

The leafless trees around them softly shuddered from the wind. And the light snap of twigs could be heard from far away.

_Step. Step._

While looking off...

The boy raised his voice enough for the older man to hear.

"..._I'm sorry._"

The older man's eyes widened. And he started to feel his heart beat. This reaction only lasted a brief moment, however, it seemed like he was relieved.

Taking his hand, the older man grabbed onto the boy's messy hair.

"Don't worry about it. You didn't do anything wrong."

The older man's expression was of a soft kindness that only a parent could show.

"How about we go get something to eat."

He pulled him in close.

…

…

…

But...

In his other hand...

He was clutching onto a charm.

While he was disgusted at himself for even having such a thing... At the same time...

He was also desperately holding on to it, as if his life somehow depended on it...

...

Nearby, in a small family-owned restaurant, a small elderly woman was flipping through the channels of a wall mounted wide-screen television.

Momentarily, she stopped to watch the local news.

A blip:

["...veering into oncoming traffic. Reportedly, three people have been confirmed dead and one in critical cond-" ]

_Click._

…

…

…

**A/N:** ...

For those of you who stuck around to the end...

I suppose you can say that this is a 'sequel' to 'The Plague', a previous drabble I did. Well, with what I knew of Touma's childhood, about the supposed TV station that wanted to document Touma into a Supernatural television show, I took some liberties and made a cast of characters...

It's really weird to make a character, knowing what you plan to do with them in the end...

In any case, I hope you enjoyed this one-shot. Please review it if you liked it.


End file.
